Time To Create

A friend turned me on to this wonderful article about women and creative, unfettered time. It rings so true. What a tragic world we live in. Beautiful, yes, but also awful and heartbreaking.

Latest Binge

Wow. It's true. Fleabag is really, really good.

GOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Oh yes. We needed this.

Spring Travels

Ben and I were glued to the window as we watched the airplane's shadow traverse the textured landscape. Arctic terns dipped among the lupine that carpeted the sides of the road. We ate and slept as wind buffeted everything in sight.

We made our way down narrow lanes through fields of wheat lit by poppies in search of the gate to Janie's chateau. Framing the window, roses bent their heads in the pelting rain as I held my sleeping child. We swam and watched a swan preen on the banks of Lake Geneva. We ate. We read in the quiet of the heat wave.

We drove and drove until we were hemmed in by stone walls. Lavender hummed with the industry of bees and Ben saw every abandoned space as a potential chicken coop. We ate and ate. We slept in rooms made as dark as caves. We celebrated Robbie and Morgan's marriage and cats reigned supreme next door.

We retreated to higher ground on the flanks of spent volcanoes. We walked through grasses rich with wildflowers, sprays of violets and foxglove. Ben took his first shower. Shadows were softened by candlelight and we bowed each time we crossed a threshold. Evan found a French board book and puzzled out its rhymes. We drifted asleep and awoke to crickets and cowbells.